


The Heart

by kikoulol340



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Cute, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Idiots in Love, M/M, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, it's literally all fluff, reader is part of the troupe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27737734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikoulol340/pseuds/kikoulol340
Summary: the five love languages with Chrollo Lucilfer.
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 83





	1. bloodstained picket-fences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> physical touch  
>  a non-sexual touch that reinforces presence
> 
> how to. hug, kiss, hold hands, show physical affection regularly. make intimacy a thoughtful priority.

There was a time when you dreamed of white-picketed fences and perfectly mowed gardens. You dreamed of wrap-around porches, of marble kitchen islands, of coming home after a long day to your partner in the kitchen. Sometimes, you’d even entertain the idea of having a few brats running around, maybe a dog. Definitely a cat. Or two.

You dreamed of the mundane, of something constant, something sure.

 _This_ was better by a long shot, you would say.

Your current hideout was no picture perfect home, nor was it as pristine as the catalogue living rooms you used to gawk at. But it is home, for now, and it is full of more life than you know how to handle. It’s character shines in its rubble, and you can’t help but giggle at the similarities between your current home and its inhabitants. Temporary as it may be, you will cherish before you have to move again. Because you _always_ have to move again.

But it’s a small sacrifice for what you receive in return, for what you’ve given up normalcy for.

“Welcome home, darling.”

You can’t stop the skip of your heart at the voice, a smile growing on your face and directed towards Chrollo, “Hello.”

He smiles back at you, arms opened silently. You don’t hesitate to stride towards him and let him engulf you in his embrace, your hands moving to latch at the back of his coat while his move to cup the back of your neck. A small hum of content rumbles in your chest, and you allow yourself to relax, your eyes slipping shut and the tension in your shoulders loosening.

Chrollo’s fingers are nimble and skilled as they rub and squeeze your neck, his lips gentle as he places a small kiss to your head, “How was the reconnaissance?”

“Boring,” you grumble into his chest, “The target is as dull as ever. But I have enough information on them now to know where they’ll be and when. Just give me a few days to organize my notes. Then we can start the mission.”

“Well done.”

His arms around you tighten, and your smile broadens.

Because while Chrollo doesn’t despise physical touch, per se, he certainly never seeks it out. You’re not sure you’ve seen him touch anyone but you, in all honesty. Not even with the Troupe. Though you suppose they’re not overly fond of being touched either. Except Uvogin. Maybe Shalnark too.

But Chrollo may just be the least physical of you all. And you, the most.

You had been so wary when getting involved with Chrollo and his lack of physical affection, wary of how safe it would be for you to initiate any kind of touch. And if you could recreate his reaction the first time you’d ask him to hold you, you would.

Never had you seen the muscles in his face so relaxed, the light in his eyes so warm, and never had you seen him smile so tenderly before. Because as beautiful as he may have already been, there was something about the content and adoration in his expression that rendered him ethereal It had sent a heat right to your face and twisted your tongue as you fidgeted in your spot, unsure where to go now that your request had been voiced.

And yet, like he managed to do so many times before, Chrollo surprised you.

He pat the seat beside him, pulling you against his chest before you were able to fully lie on the bed. And he had held you close, his grip gentle, but tight, like he was afraid you would slip away if he relented for even a second. Not only had it shocked you, but it had sent you into such a state of relaxation that you were knocked out within the hour. And Chrollo had held you through the night, his arms still firmly wrapped around you when the first rays of sunlight filtered into your bedroom and eyes.

For the first time in a long time, you had felt safe.

So even if Chrollo wasn’t one to seek out affection, he knew you were. He watched you, had been watching since you joined their ranks. And he didn’t miss how your hands would always linger on Machi’s shoulder when you complimented her, how you always leaned into Shalnark’s head pats, or how you always had to stop yourself from reaching out to pinch Feitan’s cheeks.

He watched you, and he learned to accommodate you. Because he couldn’t continuously take from you without giving you anything in return; hell, if given the opportunity, he would hand you the world on a silver platter in a heartbeat.

But because he couldn’t you the world quite yet, for now, he would settle with his touches.

And you were grateful for that. Grateful for the reassuring squeezes of your hands he’d under the meeting table after a failed mission. For the nights you’d spend simply laying on his chest, one hand on your head and the other occupied with a book, reading quietly to you as you drifted off to sleep. For those short seconds when a mission came to its climax and you locked eyes with him, both your eyes wild and chests heaving from the adrenaline, and he’d grab you by the waist and cup your face, press his forehead to yours and just relish in your presence for as long as the universe would allow him to.

There was a time you dreamed of the mundane, of morning cups of coffee and goodbye kisses before work.

But when the clock is nearing 3am and you’re sat in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea as you wait for Chrollo to come home, and the first thing he does upon his return is wrap his arms around your shoulders and rest his chin on your head, you realize this isn’t so bad either. It may not be conventional, it may not be mundane, and it may not be constant. But Chrollo is, the Troupe is. And you’re happy.

Because who needs brats and picket-fences when _this_ family has given you so much more?


	2. hot dogs for breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gifts  
>  tangible symbols that reflect your thoughtfulness and effort
> 
> how to. give thoughtful gifts and gestures. small things matter in a big way. express gratitude when receiving a gift.

Dates with Chrollo were a rare occasion, especially those involving the two of you actually leaving the house. With the nature of your profession, it was dangerous to leave, to say the least. And in any case, most days the two of you were too exhausted to even muster the strength to leave the bed. Strong as you may be, missions were still a bitch and had the terrible tendency of sapping all the energy out of you. And most days, you didn’t have any complaints with your stay-at-home dates: any time spent with Chrollo was precious.

Plus, it only made your dates outside that much more special.

So when Chrollo suggested you two go into the city for the day, you had been nothing short of ecstatic. You’d never accepted an offer so fast, and Chrollo had watched you, bemused, as you fumbled around to get ready as fast as possible.

York New City was a vibrant place, with so much life and culture that you were entranced by it as Chrollo drove you to your destination. With your face pressed against the car’s glass and your eyes distracted, you missed the fond glance Chrollo had sent your way, had missed the adoration shining in his expression.

“Let’s get food,” you demanded as soon as the car was parked, grabbing your boyfriend by the hand and pulling him down the street.

Something smelt absolutely heavenly, and you followed the scent with your nose, eyes lighting up at the hot dog stand. Grin on your face, you turned to Chrollo with bright eyes, your silent question evident in how you were looking at him.

“Y/N, darling, it’s 10 in the morning,” he laughed, ruffling your hair, “Hardly the appropriate time for _hot dogs_.”

“Time is an illusion,” you waved off, grabbing his hand once more and tugging him towards the stand, “We shouldn’t let such menial things limit us. How pathetic would that be of us.”

Another laugh bubbled out of him as he allowed you to lead him, pulling out his wallet as you ordered. There was a bounce in the balls of your feet as you watched your food get prepared, small sounds of wonder slipping past your lips as you watched the hot dogs topped with everything your heart desired. Chrollo smiled at the sight, grabbing the side of your head and gently pulling you towards him to press a kiss to your temple.

Blinking, you looked up at him only to find he was looking at the vendor, handing off the money in exchange for your food. His eyes met yours, the tenderness in them startling you. And clearly, you hadn’t been effective in masking that surprise, Chrollo’s brows furrowing.

“What?”

“You’re oddly affectionate today,” you mused, taking the food and biting into it as your eyes narrowed suspiciously, “What did you do?”

It was Chrollo’s turn to be surprised, staring at you before chuckling, shaking his fondly as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “You’re too skeptical. Is it so wrong for me to want to be close to you? Hm?”

You hummed, chewing through your food before shrugging, “I suppose not. But you cannot deny it’s out of character. For you.”

“I suppose I can’t.”

There’s silence as the two of you walk through the city, with you guiding him to various stalls and windows to stare at the goods on display. And all the while, Chrollo’s eyes stay fixated on you, keenly aware of the different reactions certain items provoked and how your expression lit up every time something caught your eye. All the while, his arm staying firmly wrapped around you, never allowing your awe to let you stray too far from him.

But as you stood in front of the jewelry stand, your hands so gentle as you stroked the necklace’s dainty pendants, Chrollo felt his heart swell. Your demeanor now was so different from the ruthless side he was so used to seeing, so tender. And it was refreshing.

“Do you see anything you like?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

You smiled at him, shaking your head, “Everything is so pretty.”

“Do you want me to buy you anything?”

Again, you shook your head, “There’s no fun in it if we don’t steal it.”

A small laugh left him at your statement, and he was strangely reminded of Shalnark as you grinned up at him. Patting your head, he watched as you bowed lightly to the shopkeeper, starting to walk ahead to continue browsing. But he didn’t follow.

“You coming?” you called, curiously tilting your head at him.

“Go on. I’m going to keep looking,” he smiled, nodding to another one of the stands, “Why don’t you go grab some food for us?”

Oblivious, you nodded, skipping ahead as you followed your nose, searching for the delectable sweet smell that you’d spotted ever since you walked into the outdoor marketplace. And Chrollo watched you as you scurried away, barely trying to fight back his smile.

And it wasn’t until you were in the car and he’d plopped the pouch in your lap that you realized why he’d let you go ahead without him, raising a brow at him. He didn’t look at you, didn’t say anything as he started the car and headed back home, and yet he didn’t need to for you to be endeared; the blush on his face was enough to make you want to coo and pinch his cheeks.

Gently, you opened the pouch, smiling as you pulled out the necklace you’d been admiring.

“Did you buy this?” you asked, laughing when he nodded and his blush only worsened.

In that moment where your affection for the normally cold leader, you leaned across the armrest console, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek. You chuckled at the surprise in his eyes, your own eyes glowing brightly as you clasped the necklace around your neck. And your eyes stayed so throughout the ride home, a feat that Chrollo did not miss.

Dates with Chrollo were a rare and quiet affair. But you didn’t need an obnoxious romance to know he loved you, didn’t need him to profess his love for you from the rooftops to know that he did care about you. It was the small things he did, the small things he noticed that spoke more than any flashy confession ever could. And in the simplicity of his love you found perfection and a comfort so potent it spread warmth throughout your entire being.

Even if you knew he could gift you the world, the small gifts he would wordlessly give you, face flushed and eyes refusing to meet yours, meant _so_ much more. Especially when he didn’t steal them.


	3. birthday motels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quality time  
>  focused and undivided attention spent together
> 
> how to. create special moments together. take walks and do small things with your partner.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” was what you told Chrollo as he opened the door to the motel room, both of your bags on his shoulders.

He frowned as he opened the door and motioned you walk in inside, hand resting on the small of your back as he followed you inside, “What do you mean?”

“Well, we have so much to do with the upcoming mission,” you sighed, the mere reminder of the responsibilities you were leaving behind enough to give you a migraine, “I can’t help but feel bad... Leaving Nobu with the rest of the children doesn’t sit right with me.”

“You worry too much,” he laughs, spinning you around to hold your face, “It’s your birthday.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to abandon everyone...”

“We’re not abandoning anyone,” Chrollo grins, running his thumbs over your cheekbones, “We’re just having a get away. You deserve a break. And we’ll be back in two nights. They can survive without you for that long, I’m sure of it.”

His attempts at reassuring you were only slightly effective, and you managed a smile. Nodding, you leaned up to press a small peck to his lips, smiling against him, “Thank you.”

With one last tender stroke of your cheekbone, Chrollo released you, dropping your bags on the bed of your motel room. You let out a heavy sigh, dropping onto the bed beside the bags and letting your limbs relax. The sheets felt so heavenly against your body, the comforter so soft and pliant under you that you finally realized just how tired your body was, the stress seeping out of your body the longer you lay there, unmoving.

Watching you from above, Chrollo chuckled, sitting beside your head and running his fingers through your hair. You hummed quietly, turning on your side and hiding your face against his side, nuzzling your nose against him as your eyes slipped shut.

“Tired?” he murmured, staring down at you fondly.

You hummed your confirmation, yawning loudly as your eyelids grew heavy, unwilling to lift despite how badly you wanted to look up at Chrollo. He smiled, leaning down to press his lips against your forehead in a gentle kiss.

“Why don’t you rest then. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

A small grin spread across your face, “Will you really be content with watching me sleep? We came all the way out here... I doubt sleeping would be a product use of our free time.”

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

There was a pause as you mulled over your options. A slow grin spread across your face.

“Does the motel have a pool?”

In hindsight, perhaps using the motel pool wasn’t the best of ideas. The night was a cool one and you were sure your fingers were on the brink of falling off as you scurried from your room to the pool. But the hot tub tucked in the corner had called out to the two of you as you stood over the pool, debating whether you should head back to your room or tough out the cold and just jump in. And Chrollo had grinned at you as soon as he spotted the hot tub, taking your hand in his and all but dragging you towards the steaming water.

Close to an hour in and your fingers had long since started pruning up, and yet you were nowhere near ready to leave the warmth of the tub and the comfort of Chrollo’s arms. Somehow, throughout your time in the tub and over the course of your conversation, you had found yourself scooting closer and closer to him, until you were practically sitting on his lap. He had welcomed you without hesitance, opening his arms and engulfing you in his hold as your legs swung over his and your head found rest between his neck and shoulder.

Chrollo’s fingers traced small patterns on your arm as he held you close, the motion soothing a killing you into a state of rest you weren’t even sure sleep could bring you.

“I really do appreciate you doing this for me,” you told him, lifting your head to look up at him.

“Of course,” Chrollo snorted, shaking his head with a smile, “You deserve the rest. The rest of the Spider would agree.”

You chuckled, resting your head against him once more, “It’d be nice if we all went on a trip together after this mission. Maybe to the beach? Somewhere without people, where we don’t have to worry about being found. Wouldn't that be nice?”

“I don’t know that the rest of the Troupe would want to go the beach,” Chrollo pointed out.

You frowned, “You might be right. Feitan might burn before he even starts to relax.”

“Pack some sunscreen,” Chrollo proposed, and you let out a laugh at that. He grinned down at you, tucking his finger under your chin to force you to look up at him, “If that’s something you would actually want to do though, pitch it to the Troupe. I’m sure they’d be willing to go, if you were the one to propose it.”

“You have to much faith in my persuasive abilities,” you hummed, scrunching your nose at him, “I’ll think about it. But it’s nice, just being here with you.”

And it was. Because as much as you cared for the rest of the Troupe, being able to spend time with Chrollo without the others around was a privilege you rarely got to take advantage of. Being able to spend time with him at all was rare in and of itself.

For him to whisk you away now, away from your job and away from all the people who relied on the two of you was... freeing. And though you didn’t crave an ordinary life, would never give your current life up for the opportunity to work an 8-5 and welcome a spouse home with a warm meal and a kiss to their cheek, this was still nice. This escape from the chaos that was your life, this false sense of normalcy where you could pretend you weren’t a wanted thief and mass murder and Chrollo wasn’t your leader.

In this moment, it was only the two of you, the hot tub and stars the only witnesses to the tender gaze in his eyes and the devoted smile on his lips. In this moment, everything fell away with the pressure on both your shoulders, and you were to just be you. And though it was nothing flashy, nothing worth bragging about, you couldn’t picture spending your birthday any other way.

It was just you, Chrollo, and the pruning of your fingers: it was serene.


	4. apple crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> acts of service  
>  any act that eases the burden of responsibility
> 
> how to. do chores together, or make them breakfast in bed. go out of your way to help alleviate their stress.

It was no secret that everyone in the Troupe was a terrible cook. Everyone save for Phinks, strangely enough, who more often than not was the one to round you all up for weekly dinners, scolding you all as he reprimanded you for not taking care of yourselves enough. It was always an amusing sight, you would admit, and more often than not he would be the butt of everyone’s jokes that night as they asked him if he was out to steal your position as heart of the Spider.

But nonetheless, those days were always a sweet distraction from the usual hustle of your job.

It was your last night before you were bound for another city for a few nights, having picked up a mission that needed you outside of your current home. And to spend that night surrounded by the Troupe, with warm food filling your belly? You couldn’t have been happier.

“This makes me miss my mother’s baking,” you moaned out through Phinks’ food, your happiness evident in the smile that had yet to leave your face.

“Didn’t you hate your mother?” Machi pointed out, raising a brow at you.

“Yeah, she was right old hag” you confirmed, shrugging as you looked at her seriously, pointing your fork at her, “But her apple crumble? I’m sure it was enough to get her into heaven.”

And while everyone else at the table snorted at the blatant lie, Chrollo kept his eyes on you, mind running faster than he could comprehend. You looked so happy, eating a warm meal and talking about apple crumble that he smiled, his hand squeezing your knee under the table. The small act of affection had your cheeks warming, and you looked to him, your happy smile turning gentle.

The next morning, you were gone before the sun had even risen, gone before anyone else in the house had woken up, and Chrollo found himself disappointed when he woke up to a cold bed. It was in a sour mood that he treaded into the kitchen where some of the Troupe was already gathered, either nursing a cup of coffee or discussing details of their next mission.

But Chrollo’s gaze zeroed in on Phinks, the man quickly noticing his boss’s gaze on him and looking up at him expectantly.

“Yes?” Phinks asked, pushing Chrollo to voice his thoughts.

Hesitating, Chrollo pursed his lips, “Would you teach me how to bake?”

All chatter ceased at the request, and Chrollo’s gaze didn’t falter as everyone else looked at him, barely trying to hide their surprise. Because since when did the leader of the Phantom Troupe have an interest in _baking_ of all things?

“I’m sorry, what?” Phinks said, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Teach me how to bake,” Chrollo requested, voice impassive, “Do you need me to make an order out of it?”

“Is this about what Y/N said last night?” Shizuku piped in, eyes curious, “Didn’t they mention their mother’s apple crumble over dinner?”

“They did, didn’t they,” Shalnark mused, grinning at their boss, “You want to bake for them?”

“Cute,” Feitan muttered, his simple input enough to make Chrollo’s brows furrow.

Phinks chuckled, shaking his head lightly, “Sure, I’ll teach you. But don’t kill me if I get frustrated with you, alright? Crumbles are… not my favorite thing to make.”

And despite the warning, Chrollo smiled, nodding at his number five.

He had thought baking for you would be a simple ordeal, but the universe loved to prove him wrong as he struggled to follow Phinks instructions without messing up the batch of baked goods. And true to his word, Phinks did grow frustrated more than once, doing his best to direct his boss and help him out without seeming disrespectful. But Chrollo didn’t let that faze him, working hard as he make one batch after the next, working hard to perfect the treat you had spoken so fondly of.

It was not two days later, when you were due to come home that he’d made a crumble Phinks deemed somewhat good enough, pride running through him at having been able to accomplish a task that had felt so tiresome.

“Don’t eat those,” he ordered Bonolenov when the bandaged member tried to get a taste, a scowl on his face, “Those are for Y/N.”

Bonolenov nodded, unwilling to argue with his boss. He was smart enough to know better, especially if it was about you. But that didn’t mean he didn’t go straight to Shalnark’s room right after, an amused lilt to his voice as he told the blond what everyone already knew well enough: their boss was absolutely _smitten_ for you.

“The mission was a success,” was the first thing you said upon coming home, pushing yourself onto the tips of your toes to place a kiss on Chrollo’s cheek.

“Did it go smoothly?” Chrollo inquired, wrapping his arms around.

A small scoff left your lips as you held up the book he’d asked you to retrieve, “Of course it did. I’m _me_.”

The book was an old artifact, holding valuable information about the bigger mission you were all preparing for. Though it wasn’t something you absolutely needed by any means to be successful in this bigger mission, it would certainly make it easier, and Chrollo grinned as he plucked the book out of your hands. And even if it did prove to be useless, which he highly doubted, at the very least, it was worth a lot of money.

“Good work,” he complimented, and you practically preened under the praise.

But the attention Chrollo momentarily held was quickly stolen from him as your nose twitched, and you sniffed the air, eyes brightening at the sweet smell that had taken over your home. You looked to Chrollo curiously, the corners of your lips quirking up.

“What’s that smell?”

Instead of answering, Chrollo took your hand and led you to the kitchen where the apple crumble he’d worked so hard on making sat. And the happy gasp that left you made those hours of work he’d put into what should have been an easy task feel like they’d been worn it.

His hand was cold as you let go of it, over the apple crumble in the blink of an eye and poking at the top of it, “Oh my god, when did you guys buy this?”

“We didn’t buy it,” Chrollo chuckled, coming to stand beside you, “Phinks helped me make it.”

It shouldn’t have been possible, but your eyes lit up further. And Chrollo didn’t like to think he was soft. As the leader of the most notorious band of murderers and thieves, such a description would tarnish his reputation. But no other word described how he felt in that moment as well as _soft_ did.

“Can I have a piece?” you asked, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Of course,” Chrollo chuckled, “I made it for you.”

And if that didn’t make _you_ soft, you didn’t know what would. The big bad Chrollo Lucilfer _baked_. _For you_ , no less. Because Chrollo was a man of few words and few actions. It was always hard to tell when he cared and when he didn’t. But the few times he opened his mouth, the few times he put even the smallest effort into making you happy were more than enough to prove just how much he cared.

“How is it?” he prodded as you took your first bite, anticipation running through him.

“Terrible,” you told him, affection in your tone as you continued eating nonetheless and blessed him with one of your brightest smiles left, “But it’s the best apple crumble I’ve ever had.”

Where Chrollo had felt offended at first, he now felt warm, “Even better than your mother’s?”

“Better than she could even dream of.”

And it was. Because Chrollo had made it for you, had made it to make _you_ happy. And he didn’t need you to say it to know as much.


	5. the heart of the spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> words of affirmation  
>  verbal compliments that express your love and appreciation
> 
> how to. write love letters and brag to others. speak words that build security. encourage genuinely and often.

There are times when you’re overcome with the overwhelming urge to sock Chrollo right across the face. A nice, clean cut up his jaw. You hope that maybe, just _maybe_ , if you hit him hard enough, his brain will knock around his skull a few more times and set itself right. Because with the words coming out of his mouth now, there’s no way he’s thinking clearly.

Right now is one of those times.

“Chrollo, it’s too dangerous,” you hiss at him, hand clasped tightly around his elbow as though it could keep him from walking out your bedroom door, “Do you have a death wish?”

“Are you doubting my strength?” he bites back, though he sounds more amused than offended. And it does nothing but piss you off further.

“No, but I’m not doubting _his_ either,” you tell him, a snarl to your tone, “He’s strong. And you would be a fool to go after him on your own.”

“The Chain User won’t be the reason I fall. Trust me.”

Chrollo's persistence is endless, but he knows just as well as you do that your stubbornness far surpasses his. You keep pushing, a growl echoing in the back of your throat as you spin him around, forcing him to face you and your eyes, ablaze with fury. Like a mother would a child, your fingers find one of his ears and you yank him down, pulling Chrollo to eye level with you. And from this close, he can see the worry, the fear hiding behind your anger, and his expression softens.

“Don’t ever insinuate I do not trust you,” you say lowly, your tone dangerously calm, “But don’t think for a second I’m going to let you face him alone. Because I don’t trust the Chain User, I don’t trust the universe to allow you to come back to me. _Whole_. So if you’re going, I’m coming with you.”

Any tenderness in Chrollo’s expression melt at your words, and he snarls back at you, grabbing your hand that is still holding his ear and wrenching it away from him, “You’re not going anywhere near him. He’s not getting anywhere near _you_ , not while I’m still breathing.”

“Do you doubt my strength?”

He smirks as you echo his earlier words, shaking his head, “You’re not coming.”

“Then take Feitan! Or Machi! Take _anyone_ , just don’t go alone,” you continue arguing, grabbing his hands in yours and holding them close to your chest as your eyes shine with your desperation, “Please, Chrollo. Just don’t go looking for him alone.”

“I can’t let him get close to the Spider again,” Chrollo tells you, and you scoff.

“Why?! Is it your pride? Do you feel some kind of need to prove you can put down the man who despises you so much? That you don’t _need_ us to do that?”

Your words are childish and petty, a far stretch from the truth. You’re well-aware of that fact. And yet you can’t stop them as they spill out, each accusation more bitter than the next as you let your fear and your worry for Chrollo’s well-being blind you. And Chrollo knows this just as well as you do. Still, he cannot help the frustration that has started to fester in his chest as he rolls his eyes, and action he knows will only further enrage you in your current state.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what is it?!”

Gritting his teeth, Chrollo pulls his hands way from you and runs his fingers through his hair, his expression quickly turning distraught as he tousles his usually slick hairstyle. You let him pull away, eyes following him as he moves to sit on the edge of your bed. His elbows rest on his knees and his head hangs low, hands still nestled in his hair.

Swallowing, you frown. Because in all your years of knowing Chrollo, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him this frazzled before.

Quietly, you kneel before him, your touch far gentler than your tone had been as your wrap your fingers around his wrists. You pull his hands out of his hair, and he lets you, letting them fall limp between his legs. Ever so slowly, you lift your hands to cup his face, forcing his head to lift with a gentle nudge. And when you meet his gaze, your breath hitches and a ball forms in your throat, the pain and disappointment shining in his eyes so foreign you’re not sure you’re looking at your leader at all.

“Chrollo… What is it?”

Your voice is much softer now, soothing him as you run your thumbs over his cheekbones. He sighs, eyes falling shut as he leans into your hand.

“I can’t lose anymore of you,” he whispers, and in any other situation, you may have laughed at the ludicrous idea, “We’ve lost so many legs as it is, and I- I won’t allow the Spider to lose anymore of its members. I can’t.”

“And you think any of us can afford to lose you?” you counter, and he huffs.

“A spider can still move without a head.”

“But you forget: a spider doesn’t have a head in the first place. It has a cephalothorax, which serves as a head. But it’s also where all the limbs are attached,” you explain, smiling as Chrollo raises an eyebrow, “So you see, if you cut it off, not only does the spider lose its limbs, it dies too.”

There’s a moment of silence as Chrollo absorbs your words, a moment where you can’t help but press your forehead to his, your eyes falling shut. Your need to fill the silence overwhelms you, but not before you press a small kiss to his nose.

“The Spider can’t go on without you.”

Chrollo snorts, “You did perfectly well when that nen chain was wrapped around my heart.”

“Only because we knew there was a way to get you back,” you retorted, your expression turning sour as memories of those months came back, “And don’t think for a second that I didn’t almost kill Feitan and Phinks during that time.”

Your quip earns you a small laugh from Chrollo, and he shakes his head. How you find the opportunity to be ridiculous during such a tender moment, he doesn’t know. And yet he adores you for it, his gaze fond as he smiles at you. And you smile back, expression just as tender and loving as it has always been, a brutal reminder of why he wanted to do this alone in the first place.

He sighs heavily, and you frown, the soothing motion of your thumb slowing.

“We’ve already lost too many,” he whispers, and your heart freezes. There’s so much pain in his face, so much stress he’d never voiced, and you wonder how long he’s been bottling everything up, “I should have been able to protect them. I need to be able to protect those of us that are left.”

“Chrollo,” you call softly when his eyes drift to the floor, only continuing when he meets your gaze, “We need you alive more than we need you to protect us.”

“But Pakunoda, Uvogin-”

“-were not your fault,” you interrupt, your grip on his face tightening, “That rat bastard is the only person to blame. And we will make him pay for what he’s done. But it’s something we need to do together. Just think of how upset Nobu will be if he doesn’t get a taste, hm?”

When Chrollo doesn’t reply, you take the liberty to continue.

“Whether you want to realize it or not, this isn’t a task any of us can do on our own,” you admit quietly, because as much as you hate to say it, you’re not sure even _you_ would be able to defeat the Chain User, “We’re stronger when we’re together. And we’ll avenge our family _together_ , because we need to be able to watch each others’ backs.

I can’t lose any of you anymore either. So don’t die on me, you got it? The Troupe may need you, but I need you more, selfish as it may be. And if you think about leaving me behind, I will bring you back just to kill you all over again.”

Chuckling, Chrollo lifts his hands to hold your wrists, keeping your touch against his face. His eyes shine with a gratitude he doesn’t know how to express, but that he knows you can recognize well enough. You know him better than he knows himself, and you smile, nodding a silent confirmation that you understand what he’s trying to say. And he smiles back, releasing one of your wrists to grasp your chin and pull your lips to his.

His kiss conveys more than he could ever say, and you smile against his lips.

Because as unattached and uncaring as your leader may seem, you know of his soft spots for the Spider. You’ve seen the relief when everyone regroups in one piece, the smile that threatens to pull at his lips when Shalnark gets Phinks worked up. But you also know his attachment to them leads to guilt, and fear, and worry, emotions so foreign to him he doesn’t know where to start in dealing with them.

But when you’re in front of him, comfort spilling off your tongue, he finds it isn’t so hard anymore. Because that’s what you do: you keep him together, keep them _all_ together.

You’re the heart of the Spider.


End file.
